The Note
by WildCat327
Summary: A short, one shot Malcolm story that's very dark and angsty. I can't really say too much without spoiling it so just read it for yourself!


**The Note**

Rating: T / PG-13

Disclaimer: All characters from "Malcolm in the Middle" are owned by Fox and Linwood Boomer, the show's creator.

Malcolm crumpled the note in his hand, digging his fingernails into his palms that were already slick with blood. A wave of nausea washed over him as reality started to sink in. At first, everything had been surreal like a bad dream. All the blood was undeniable proof that the situation wouldn't disappear when he opened his eyes though.

"Where is everybody?" Dewey called from the living room as he arrived home from school, unaware that his life was about to change.

Malcolm heard him walking down the hall towards their bedroom. He wiped some of the blood on his shirt and went to the door to engage the lock. "Don't come in here, Dewey." He warned gravely.

"Why?" He rattled the doorknob and discovered that it was locked. "Let me in Malcolm! It's my room too! You're so busted if you're in there with some girl!" Dewey yelled furiously from the other side of the door.

"No, it's not a girl. I'm serious; you _really_ don't want to come in here." Malcolm's voice cracked with emotion.

"Are you crying?" Dewey asked with a softer tone in his voice. "Fine. Ignore me." He muttered when he received no response. "I'm coming in whether like it or not though!" He hurried to the kitchen to retrieve a key that would unlock the door.

"Dewey don't!" Malcolm pleaded when he heard the key turning in the lock after a few minutes. He pressed his weight against the door, trying to protect his brother for his own good. He didn't want Dewey to have to witness this, but it was no use. Dewey struggled to get in until Malcolm finally lacked the will and the strength to fight any longer. Another wave of nausea was beginning to churn his stomach and he suddenly felt lightheaded. His knees finally buckled beneath him so he slumped down against the wall, letting Dewey have his way.

The door flew open and Dewey stepped into the room. He glanced toward Malcolm and started to deliver a smartass comment, but suddenly froze in horror with his mouth agape as he stared at the scene before him. "What have you done?" he cried in shock when he regained his ability to speak.

"Read this." Malcolm held out his blood-spattered hand and offered the crumpled note to his brother. "It explains everything." He sobbed, tears finally flooding his eyes.

Dewey took the note and opened it, his eyes glazing over with tears as he silently read the words to himself:

_Dear Family,_

_I'm sorry for doing this, but I don't want to go on any longer. I'm tired of people hurting me all the time. You may not realize this, but I have feelings too. I don't know why everyone hates me so much. I've tried to be nice to them, but they just laugh and walk away. I've learned to accept how they are even though it's still painful. I admit that socializing isn't really my thing so maybe I deserve to be treated that way. What I can't accept is how my own family treats me. Sometimes I feel like an outcast in my own house. The mean jokes and insults really hurt, even though I act like they don't bother me. This has been building up for awhile now and I've given it a lot of thought. I feel so empty inside and I just can't live like that anymore. So this is goodbye. Again, I'm sorry, but I hope one day you'll understand. _

"I had no idea." Dewey folded up the note with trembling hands, the tears flowing freely down his pale face now. "Why the hell didn't you say anything? I never knew it bothered you so much!" He shouted at his brother, but received no response.

"Don't blame yourself, Dewey. Nobody knew." Malcolm finally broke the silence, then unsteadily rose to his feet. "I tried to stop the bleeding, but it's way too late." He cried, staring at his crimson colored hands.

"This can't be happening." Dewey sobbed, unwilling to accept the harsh truth.

"Damnit Reese! How could you do this to us?" Malcolm yelled angrily as he stood over his brother's lifeless body.

**The End**

XXXXX

A/N: Hopefully you didn't see it coming that it was Reese, not Malcolm. :-) I wrote this on a whim and it kinda turned out darker than I expected, but I wanted to do something a little different and shocking. This takes place sometime in season six (back when Reese was going through his sensitive phase) if you're wondering about time frame.

I'm curious about what you think since this is so different from other Malcolm stories here (to my knowledge) so I would appreciate if you'd take a second to leave a comment or two. I ask that you try to be constructive if you think it sucks though. Flames are just a waste of everybody's time. :-)


End file.
